


hell nos and headphones

by deathandnetflix



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam (Voltron) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Atlanta, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, BAMF Allura (Voltron), Bad Flirting, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Matt Holt, Bisexuality, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Coran (Voltron) Being Coran, Driving, Everybody Lives, Everybody Ships Klance, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hotels, How Do I Tag, Human Allura (Voltron), Human Coran (Voltron), Human Shay (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Keith (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Love Triangles, M/M, Matt Holt & Shiro Friendship, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Minor Matt Holt/Shiro, Multi, No Angst, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Please Kill Me, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Road Trips, Romelle (Voltron) - Freeform, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Shiro (Voltron) is So Done, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Supportive Coran (Voltron), Swimming, Swimming Boys, Swimming Pools, Texting, This Is STUPID, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-05-26 15:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15003425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathandnetflix/pseuds/deathandnetflix
Summary: Voltron road trip. Shenanigans, confessing, and fluff.Excerpt:“Ugh,” Keith says flatly upon seeing Lance.“Ugh,” Lance says flatly upon seeing Keith.They’re both promptly squished together as Shiro eases in, unceremoniously shoving Keith against Lance. “You two, play nice.”“Oh, I’m sure they’ll play-”“Pidge,” Lance growls.“-very nicely. That’s all I was going to say. God, Lance, get your mind out of the gutter.”





	1. disco balls and beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Title based off Hailee Steinfeld's "Hell Nos and Headphones."

“We’re going on a what now,” Pidge deadpans flatly, turning around in her desk chair to stare at Hunk.  


“Well, I have to go down to Atlanta anyway. And Lance has been whining to me nonstop every day on how the majority of his family is away most of the year, and I thought it’d be a nice surprise. So cooperate. I also know you’ve been wanting to visit Matt since he got that job at Kerberos Arts. Which is, coincidentally, only two minutes away from Lance’s family. And I’m going down there for my internship at Altea Studios. And Shiro needs to go back to Atlanta anyway for his summer job. So it all works out,” Hunk replies, clicking his tongue as he turns away, opening his closet door and digging out his giant yellow suitcase. “And…”  


Pidge emits a pensive sound, rolling around on her bed to face him.  


“I know you’ve been wanting to drive that beautiful new green Jeep. Picture it. Just shining in the sun, blowing all those other pathetic cars away with its stunning visage-”  


“What about the parents?” Pidge interjects before she's completely roped in, crossing her arms.  


“I got in contact with mine and Lance’s. Told them that it was going to be an attempt to rein Lance’s rather...flamboyant spirit in, you know, before we all go off for our very last summer before college. Wink wink,” Hunk replies.  


“I’m still not convinced. Think of the sitting for hours, the...the grumpiness, the same disgusting mainstream pop on repeat on the radio-”  


“I have one last nail in the coffin,” Hunk says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “What if we brought Keith along?”  


“How is that a nail in the coffin?”  


“Um. We’ve been trying to get Keith and Lance together for five bajillion years-”  


“And a road trip with them conveniently squished next to each other could get the crackheads to finally get over themselves and dick,” Pidge finishes, wrapping her long ponytail around her wrist and grinning deviously. “Gotta go, Hunk!” She rolls off the bed and grabs her jacket from her door.  


“Where are you going?” Hunk asks, holding a shirt to his torso. "I sincerely hope this is clean."  


“I have to pack, dumbass!”  


\---  


“Lance,” Pidge yells sans encore, banging his door open.  


Lance is half-oozing on his bed, on his floor, scrolling through his phone. At the sound of Pidge’s voice, he squawks loudly and thumps to the floor. “Demon!”  


“Charming. Get up. We’re going on a road trip,” Pidge announces loudly, throwing open Lance’s closet door and tossing out his suitcase. It hits Lance in the head just as he’s climbing back on his bed. “Three points!”  


He crashes back to the floor. “Ow!”  


“Wimp,” Pidge says unsympathetically.  


“Pidge, you could have killed me,” he whines, dragging out the me obnoxiously and writhing on the floor for good effect.  


“Top ten anime betrayals,” Pidge proclaims before continuing. “We’re going to Atlanta because our freeloader friends have summer jobs and are piggybacking with me and my new Jeep. And Keith is coming along because Keith can't spend all summer in his room becoming a pillbug.”  


“Wait. Seriously? We’re actually going to Atlanta?”  


“We’re going. Hunk already talked to your tía Camila. She thinks it’ll be a good idea before we go off to college.”  


“Well then, by all means, count me fucking in!” Lance crows excitedly, jumping up from his bed and dashing to his closet.  


Pidge picks up his dropped phone, still on. “Were-were you seriously just going through Keith’s fucking _Instagram_?”  


“No!” Lance screeches, darting out of his closet and snatching his phone back. “Get your filthy self out, tiny gremlin!”  


“You didn’t deny it!” Pidge hoots outside his door.  


\---  


“Keith! Door!” Shiro calls, walking into the living room.  


“You get it. I’m too far away," Keith says lazily, spread out across the couch like a starfish.  


Shiro swats Keith. “You were five feet away, dipshit.”  


He opens the door to reveal Hunk on the doorstep. “Hey, Hunk. What’s up?”  


“Would you like to be a freeloader and piggyback on our trip to Atlanta?”  


\---  
“Keith-”  


“No.”  


“Keith-”  


“No.”  


“Keith just think about it-”  


“No.”  


“Come on, Keith-”  


“No.”  


“Lance-”  


“Shiro,” Keith said dangerously.  


“Lance is going on that road trip,” Shiro says, looking at Keith with that terrible, smug look on his face.  


A few months ago, Keith made the mistake of mentioning his undying schoolgirl crush on the biggest idiot he's ever met (Lance), to the second biggest idiot he’s ever met, (Shiro). And now it’s biting him in the ass. Because the aforementioned second idiot is trying to actually get him to go on an insane, pointless trip across the United States like some sort of goddamn white suburban family.  


Keith pretends to mull over it, then smashes his face into his pillow. “Still no. I don’t think I could even look at him.”  


“Keith, I am executing an official Brother Order.”  


Brother Orders were created by Shiro when Keith refused to go to school in first grade because Shiro cut his hair into an awful fauxhawk. They couldn’t be overridden with another Brother Order, each brother was allowed one per week, and Shiro had just taken advantage of Keith using his up on Monday to keep the mullet for another month. As always.  


"Shiro,” Keith tries weakly.  


“What I think you mean is 'Shiro, I’m going to go pack now.'”  


“Ugh,” Keith mumbles, falling off his bed.  


“I thought you ended your emo phase in middle school. Think about being with Lance in a car for hours on end, touching hands, blushing-”  


“GET OUT OF MY ROOM.”  


Shiro gets out, but not before he dumps the suitcase on Keith’s head.  


\---  


They are packed. Everyone is ready to go. It is 7:45 in the morning. Hunk and Lance were picked up first. They are on their way to pick up Shiro and Keith. It is peaceful. They are on schedule. All is going according to plan. Except.  


“What is this,” Pidge says in disgust, pointing to the disco ball hanging from the mirror of her beautiful Jeep. “Excuse me. I am _appalled._ Who has the fucking audacity to-”  


“Lighten up, Pidgey,” Lance says, batting it around and settling in the window seat. “It adds pizzazz.”  


“Well. I will keep it. However, as punishment, scoot to the middle,” Pidge says, sitting down and sniffing the leather-coated steering wheel. “So beautiful,” she mumbles reverently, running a hand over the seat. There are actual tears in her eyes.  


Hunk is in shotgun, placidly eating baby carrots. “Road trip,” he says happily. _Crunch._  


It’s silent as Pidge carefully drives, murmuring encouragements to the car. Lance takes advantage of the peaceful atmosphere of the car, closing his eyes and drifting off-  


_THUD._  


Keith and Shiro open the trunk, Shiro tossing their bags in easily with his prosthetic. Lance jolts up indignantly, looking up to see who dares to disturb his-  


And he’s two inches away from Keith Kogane’s pretty face, twisted up in a scowl upon seeing him.  


“Eyelashes,” is the first thing Lance says dumbly, because _wow_ , how are Keith’s eyelashes so long and dark? Lance is whipped. Boys are so pretty.  


“What?” says the Pretty Boy in question, furrowing his brow.  


He hurriedly twists his face into a sour expression before Pidge can catch him. “Nothing. Jesus, mullet.”  


“Ugh,” Keith says flatly, scooting away.  


“Ugh,” Lance says back just as flatly, crossing his arms. What a nice twenty-second nap until this literal sex god just up and sits next to Lance. Lance is going to die of gay panic before they’re even on the road yet.  


They’re both promptly squished together as Shiro eases in, unceremoniously shoving Keith against Lance. “You two, play nice.”  


“Oh, I’m sure they’ll play-”  


“Pidge,” Lance growls.  


“-very nicely. That’s all I was going to say. God, Lance, get your mind out of the gutter.”  


Pidge backs out of the driveway carefully, hunching over the steering wheel like her life depends on it. Hunk peeks at the speedometer. She’s actually driving at half a mile per hour. Unbelievable.  


“Um, Pidge? Can you go a little faster- ahh! Jesus _Christ_!”  


Pidge just absolutely _annihilates_ the gas pedal, blowing everybody back in their seats. Lance’s cheek smushes against the window as he grabs on to his seatbelt for dear life.  


“Road trip, baby!” she whoops, honking the horn and shattering the peaceful neighborhood.  


“PIDGE ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING SEVENTY MILES AN HOUR,” Lance shrieks.  


“Oh boy,” Shiro mumbles. “Road trip.”  


\---  


3 in the afternoon is a bad, bad time for Pidge to be doing any kind of physical activity.  


Firstly, because of her sparse, sporadic sleeping schedule, she has made it a point to take a nap at 3 every day. No matter what she’s doing, what class she’s in, she’ll conk out right there. And she’s never punished for it, because she’s already so far ahead of the other dingbats in the class. Even Iverson, their demonical physics teacher, just sighed and passed her by.  


Unfortunately, she’s also pulled a Pavlov on herself in that she’ll literally fall asleep during, say, a game of Monopoly, coding, writing a paper, anything.  


Or driving.  


Luckily, Lance, being a good friend and also driven by the desperate need of space from Keith and his ridiculous beauty sitting right next to him, the _nerve_ , sees the first yawn surface at 2:56 and is immediately saying, “Pidge, pull over pull over pull over,” getting out of the car, hauling Pidge’s sleepy ass into the backseat, sticking her earbuds in her ears, turning on Daft Punk on her phone, and taking the wheel in one smooth motion.  


“Hey, Lance,” Pidge says sleepily.  


“I know. You don’t have to say it. I’m the best friend ever-”  


“Not that. Just saying that if you so much as get a fingerprint on my beautiful car, say bye bye to everything you love.”  


She’s asleep before Lance can retort. Scary.  


It’s relatively quiet as Lance drives with his queen Mariah Carey on the radio. Hunk listens to ABBA, Keith is probably listening to some kind of hardcore emo shit like MCR (okay, maybe that’s just Lance speculating, but it’s highly plausible), and Shiro is leaning back in his seat as he listens to classical music.  


Honestly, it’s kind of boring, especially when he’s on the highway. There’s so much hype around driving, but it’s literally just making sure you don’t speed and not getting caught when you’re speeding. And, you know, not crashing.  


Easy.  


In fact, it’s so boring that Lance doesn’t notice the gas meter dipping lower and lower. They’d left with a quarter tank of gas, and as the hours pass by, by the time he realizes this, they’re pretty much running on fumes.  


Great.  


So a half-awake Pidge takes the wheel, searching for a hotel.  


“Shit,” she hisses through her teeth. The small, lone, motel she can find looks like a matchbox, paint chipped and peeling, but it’s fine. They just need it for one night.  


“What’s wrong?” Lance asks. “Looks a little seedy, but it’s only for one night. I’m sleepy.”  


“It’s ridiculously expensive. Look at the sign. And since we didn’t stop and recharge, it’s either this or sleep in the car like puppies. And I ain’t getting drool in this baby.”  


Lance looks, and indeed, the prices are eye-watering. “Urgh.” He taps his chin for a second.  


“I have money, but I don’t want to blow it on this,” Hunk says apologetically.  


“I have some cash on me-” Shiro starts.  


“Ha! Lancey Lance’s got this. They don’t call me the Tailor for nothing,” Lance says, winking and clambering over Shiro to get out.  


“No one calls him that, do they?” Keith says skeptically.  


\---  


Lance checks himself out in the window, then pushes open the door. The receptionist, a pretty, impossibly pale skinned, indigo-eyed girl with a name tag that says Nyma, is painting her nails with a bottle of Wite-Out. Lance recalls doing that to Keith when he was asleep once, blowing on Keith’s rough, nimble fingers to dry them. Man, he was furious when he woke up.  


“Hey,” he says hesitantly. Nyma looks like a overbearing person-someone who would trick you and tie you up. Lance is more observant than most people give him credit for- he knows that Nyma would probably be attracted to a shy, kind of rumpled nerd. His hoodie seems to swallow him up as he shuffles his feet.  


“Hey, cutie,” she says, or rather purrs. “You looking for a place to stay?”  


“Actually, yeah. I...I was hoping you had some extra room tonight?” Lance says, biting his lip as if he’s nervous.  


“We do,” Nyma cooed, clicking her nails on the desk. “For a cupcake like you, I’ll give you a discount, though.”  


Lance rubs the back of his neck, cackling internally. “What do I have to do?”  


\---  


Lance walks back to the car five minutes later, dangling a room key from his fingers.  


“Holy _fuck_ how did he do that,” Pidge says in disbelief.  


“Just flirted with the pretty receptionist. No biggie,” Lance declares smugly, smirking. “We get two rooms, each with two beds. That was the most I could get without actually doing the deed.”  


“Thanks, Lance,” Hunk says gratefully, getting everybody’s bags out of the trunk. Shiro pats him on the shoulder. Keith makes a sound that’s vaguely similar to a “thanks.”  


“What’s that, Kogane? Couldn’t hear you over my superior flirting skills.”  


Keith snorts and smacks Lance on the shoulder.  


\---  


So.  


There are five people.  


And Lance could only rope four beds.  


So two people are going to have to share.  


And of course they draw sticks. And of course Lance and Keith got the short sticks. Because this fuckstorm disaster of a road trip just couldn’t get any better.  


Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro were all cackling with each other as Lance and Keith hauled their baggage out, and Lance isn’t saying it was rigged, but it was totally rigged.  


Lance stares up at the popcorn ceiling. They’re lying as far away as possible from each other as possible without falling off the admittedly very, very tiny bed. They’d washed and changed in silence- apparently Keith sleeps shirtless too, which wouldn’t normally be a problem except that he has abs and that is so freaking hot- and Lance is drifting off to the sound of Pidge’s locomotive snoring in the next bed when Keith sits up slowly, rumpling the covers.  


Lance slits his eyes so they’re almost closed and flattens out his breathing as Keith looks at him cautiously, then slips out of bed and opens the closet door, getting out a folded towel and- a swimsuit? What the fuck?- creeping out of the room, shutting the door slowly behind him.  


Lance gets up and follows Keith, grabbing a towel and his swimsuit too. He can’t just going to leave Keith in peace, after all.  


And it doesn’t have anything to do with Keith being shirtless or anything. Nope.  


Lance is walking down the stairs when Pidge texts him.  


_**pidgeon, lanceeeeee** _

**pidgeon** : where the fuck you going at midnight bitch  


**pidgeon** : where’s keith  


**pidgeon** : oh my god are you  


**lanceeeeee** : how about you shut up  


**pidgeon** : use protection kiddos  


**lanceeeeee** : good fucking BYE


	2. swimming pools and denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol what the fuck???

Keith surfaces, wiping his face and gasping. The pool ripples around him in his wake.

It’s quiet down here. Honestly, it was a pretty uneventful first day.

Keith didn’t miss Shiro’s not-so-subtle eyebrow wiggle at Lance seated next to Keith. He definitely didn’t miss the text from Shiro that just had a fucking winky emoji. 

Keith knows that Shiro thinks he likes Lance.

Keith Kogane has never, and will never, like Lance Mcclain.

_Denial,_ whispers his brain.

So why did he get so irritated at the thought of Lance being clawed at by that she-devil Nyma?

It’s stupid, and normally listening to his specially curated Ariana Grande playlist (he hadn’t even heard of My Chemical Romance until Lance referenced it) would cure all of his problems.

Or working out until sweat is running down his face and his brain is all emptied out. Unfortunately, Lance Mcclain has occupied all of his thoughts all day.

“Stupid Lance,” he mutters. “Stupid, stupid Keith.”

So his solution right now is to bury his head in the metaphorical sand. Or water, in this case.

He gulps in a stale breath of still air and dives back under, trying not to think about how many people have probably hooked up or peed in this crappy motel pool. Seriously. There’s freaking graffiti on the diving board. How low can he get?

At least the water is surprisingly clear and blue. Like a certain someone’s eyes. Keith knew he was absolutely fucked as soon as he got in the car and met Lance’s wide eyes and stupidly smooth, bright skin.

Holy _shit._ Why were boys so pretty? Why is Keith so gay?

“I thought swimming was my territory,” a loud voice says above water. It’s muffled, masking their identity. Who the fuck would be up at 1:23 in the morning-

Keith pushes back his wet bangs, looking at the devil himself, Lance. Shirtless. In swimming trunks.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Keith mutters, because if he says anything else, it’ll probably come out as “oh my god how are you so fucking ethereal Jesus kill me now.”

“Same as you,” Lance says, dipping his feet into the water. “Swimming. Man. Cold as balls.”

Keith doesn’t reply, leaning back and floating lazily. He can’t swim with Lance here. Too distracting.

“So,” Lance says. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Keith says shortly, pulling himself out of the pool and shaking his head. He looks up to see Lance staring at him, wide eyed. “What?”

“You...you just shook your head like a dog,” Lance says slowly.

“You got a problem with that?” Keith asks tiredly.

“No! Nope. Jeez, sensitive. Okay, whatever. Why are you swimming in an absolute shithole of a swimming pool at ass crack o’ clock?”

“I needed to exercise,” Keith says, playing with the little white tie on his trunks. “Happy now?”

Lance is silent. “Fine. Yes. We can just...sit here.”

“What? Not going to pick a fight?” Keith says, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the impulsive, reckless dickwad I know?”

“Right here. I am cool as a cucumber. Look at me. Levelheaded and all ‘patience yields focus’ like Shiro.” Lance drapes his towel over his eyes. “See? Just like a spa. Relaxed. No arguing.”

“Oh, really?” Keith challenges.

“Yep. No fighting. Nada.”

Keith hums agreeably, tiptoeing barefoot towards Lance’s prone figure, leaving wet footprints behind on the concrete.

“Lance?”

Lance grunts. “Hrgh?”

“Surprise,” Keith says evenly, whipping Lance’s towel off and picking him up, slinging him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes and trying to ignore how Lance’s muscles flex against his skin as he struggles.

“Keith! What the fuck-”

“Oops,” Keith says boredly, flinging Lance into the pool with a giant splash.

Lance surfaces in seconds, sputtering and wiping water out of his eyes. He pushes his hair back on his forehead, glaring at a laughing Keith.

Keith peeks at him, and instantly regrets it.

Beads of water are running down Lance’s face, dripping down his cheekbones. His eyes are pulsing, electric as he shakes his head, spraying Keith with water. He’s shaking water out of his ears right now, baring impossibly white teeth.

In other words, he is fucking hot. Keith needs this man to take him _now._

“Keith?” Lance asks in a small voice. “Help me out?” He reaches out a hand.

Keith recovers from the temporary bout of gay insanity, gripping Lance’s hand and pulling.

And of course it’s a trick. Keith yelps as he’s pulled into the pool, surfacing in Lance’s stupidly muscular arms.

“Oh my god, fuck you Lance,” he gasps, lunging towards him. “Get back here!”

Lance cackles, sending a wave of water towards Keith. “Try me, mullet!”

\---

They stumble back in the room just as the sun begins to rise, hair stiff with chlorine and dripping wet.

Keith calls dibs on first shower, shutting the door behind him. Lance changes behind the closet door, hanging up his wet trunks on the closet door. Hopefully they’re dry by the time they get on the road.

“So,” Pidge says way too brightly as Lance emerges. “How was your little...ahem, date last night?”

Lance chokes on his own spit. “Fucking hell, Pidge, you-you little demon, you gremlin, you-”

“Spill the tea. Come on.”

“Please don’t tell anybody else, Pidgeon,” Lance says pleadingly. “You know they’d enjoy it way too much.”

“I will not utter a single word out loud to the others,” Pidge replies solemnly. “Happy?”

“Oh my God, thank you so mu-There’s some kind of loophole, isn’t there,” Lance says resignedly, rubbing his temples. “Motherfucker, Pidge.”

Pidge laughs. A second later, Lance’s phone pings.

**gc for road trip fam**

**pidgeon** : guess what dumb and dumber did last night

**pidgeon** : **[image sent]**

**shiroGAYne** : use protection

**gordon ramsey** : o o F

**pidgeon** : oof indeed

She raises an eyebrow at Lance, silently daring him to retaliate.

“How did you even get that photo?” Lance groans, sinking his head into his hands.

“Our window is right above the pool,” Pidge says smugly. “Pure coincidence, of course.”

Lance sighs. “Let’s just get on the road before I die.”

Keith emerges from the shower with a towel around his waist. “Pidge, what the hell is in the group-”

Lance takes this chance to escape to the bathroom.

“Ah, Keith. I’ve been waiting for you, you thirsty h-” he hears Pidge say as Lance shuts the bathroom door behind him and turns on the shower.

He really doesn’t want to know what Pidge is going to say.

He stares at his face in the mirror, skin dried out and tight from the swimming pool’s chlorine.

Keith pushing his hair off his forehead.

Keith shaking his head like a dog, only it was more than just cute when he did it.

Keith picking Lance up and dumping him into the pool.

Keith talking quietly with Lance.

Keith.

Lance realizes he’s been standing there like a statue. He steps in the shower and shakes his head of any stray thoughts.

\---

“So. Are we ready to hit the road?” Pidge announces, backing out of the parking lot at a quarter mile per hour. She eases onto the road so slowly, Keith can feel every single rock and bump on the asphalt beneath the tires.

“Pidge don’t do it don’t do it _don’t do it_ -” Shiro starts.

“Too late,” Pidge screeches, stomping on the gas. “Road trip, baby!”

Keith rubs his head where it banged into the headrest. “Pidge, you're going to give us all whiplash-”

“Not a fucking word, Pool Boy,” Pidge says immediately, turning on the radio.

Keith takes the hint: he shuts up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/deathandnetflix/?hl=en)


	3. stars and sexual tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hunk gotsta pee.

“Guys,” Hunk says in a tone of doom. It’s five in the afternoon, the sun is slowly boiling them alive even through the air conditioning set on high, Lance and Keith are still pointedly not looking at each other after the Swimming Pool/Pidge Incident, Shiro is practically choking on the sexual tension, and Pidge is driving and cooing to the car.

”Who’s a beautiful car? Who deserves all the love? Who can conquer any hill and snowstorm?”

”Jesus,” Shiro says, smiling bemusedly. “You haven’t even named it.”

Pidge gasps. “Oh, hell no. That’s unacceptable.” She starts brainstorming names, mumbling to herself.

“Guys,” Hunk says again. “Seriously.”

“Uh oh,” Lance says automatically. “Who’d you kill?”

“I have to pee,” Hunk says frantically.

The disco ball on the ceiling sways as Pidge whips around with murder in her eyes. “Hunk, if you make a mess in my car, I will drop kick your ass out of this car faster than you can say ‘yeet.’”

“Language,” Shiro says admonishingly. “Pidge, just take the next exit. We need to get snacks anyway.”

“Fine,” Pidge groans, taking the approaching exit. “I guess we’re low on gas anyway.”

\---

Hunk catapults out of the car as soon as Pidge stops, racing across the parking lot towards the convenience store. “Excuse me! Emergency! Get out of the way!”

Pidge just shrugs. "At least he didn't pee in my car." She pats the hood of the Jeep and walks around to the gas pump.

“Fuck,” Lance says bemusedly as he looks at a running Hunk, crossing his arms. “Hunk could be in the Olympics.”

“Who wants snacks?” Shiro sing songs, holding up his credit card. Keith snatches it out of his hand faster than he can blink. “I could so go for some Funyuns right now,” he says.

“Hey! I called dibs on snacks!” Lance screeches, snatching Shiro’s card and racing towards the doors.

“Damn it, Lance!” Keith shouts, running after him.

Shiro stares after them with a desolate expression. "There goes my only hope of paying off student loans before I die."

“Worth it if they get together in the end,” Pidge says to Shiro, slamming her head on the car repeatedly and increasingly resignedly as the price ticks up. “I forgot how fucking _expensive_ gas is these days.”

"Pidge?" Shiro says.

"Yeah?"

"You know Keith and Lance fight constantly," Shiro says uncertainly. "Are you sure they'll ever admit their feelings for each other? Are they just going to fight all the time if they start dating?"

"Trust me, Shiro," Pidge says confidently. "Those two are soulmates if I ever saw some.”

Lance and Keith walk out of the store, already fighting.

“Yes. Soulmates indeed,” Shiro deadpans. 

Pidge glances at him for a second before they both crack up, doubled over on the hood of the Jeep.

"Shiro, I know a good pair when I see it. I know you're just worried for your baby brother," Pidge says reassuringly in a rare moment of seriousness. "It'll be fine, okay?"

"You're no matchmaker," Shiro replies, smiling wryly.

"Oh yeah? What about all that pining bullshit you're pulling on Matt?" Pidge accuses, switching back to her sarcastic, irreverent self.

"That's-that's different," Shiro says quickly, hoping Pidge misses his blush.

"You're blushing," Pidge says gleefully. "Oh man, you are so gay for him!"

"I am not," Shiro counters, trying to hold on to his last shred of dignity.

"Lie. You know that picture of Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield where Loren is hardcore thirsting for Mansfield’s rack?”

“Yes?”

“You and Matt. In a nutshell. Also. How would the name Betty sound for the car?”

“Um. Sounds like a 1900s actress.”

”Damn,” Pidge muses. “True. I’ll keep thinking.”

They stop talking as Lance and Keith approach them, squabbling over the jumbo bag of Funyuns between them.

“Come on, mullet! Just give me one,” Lance whines, making a grab for the bag.

“No! I called dibs!” Keith says indignantly, holding it out of Lance’s reach with one hand and handing Shiro his credit card with the other.

“Ugh,” Lance says sullenly, slumping down in the seat. “Fine. Just eat them all. I’ll laugh at you when you’re in the hospital and you’re obese and you have diabetes and you’re all alone.”

“Ha! I’ll just exercise it all off,” Keith fires back, crunching a ring in Lance’s face.

“Fuck you,” Lance says, just to get the last word in.

Keith sticks his tongue out childishly, tossing another Funyun in his mouth.

Hunk sighs as he opens the car door. “Ahh. Sweet relief.”

“You guys are like toddlers,” Shiro says exasperatedly to Keith and Lance, separating them. “Why can’t you just get along?”

_And maybe make out, because we’ve been waiting for years,_ he adds inside his head.

“Because he’s impossible!” they both yell at the same time, pointing at each other.

\---

They stop for the night at a family-owned bed and breakfast, run by a giggling woman with long blue and yellow hair. Her name tag says Luxia, and although she lets Lance kiss her hand and wink all he wants, she’s not as easily enticed as Nyma, something Keith smugly reiterates in Lance’s ear while Hunk pays for three rooms. Lance just scowls at him in reply.

“We have roof access, by the way,” Hunk says casually while they’re waiting for an elevator. “All hours of the night. I paid extra for it.”

“Why would we need roof access-oh ho _ho_ ,” Pidge says as she realizes the possibilities, wiggling her eyebrows at Hunk. The two giggle madly at each other.

"You guys are obnoxious," Shiro says disapprovingly, grinning just as widely as Pidge and Hunk. "And you guys are also the best."

Keith and Lance catch up with them, holding their overnight clothes and toothbrushes. “What were you guys talking about?” Lance asks.

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” Hunk yelps in a voice that’s three octaves higher.

“Shiro?” Keith asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

“We are completely truthful,” Shiro reassures him way too loudly.

“Did I mention that we have roof access all night? Might want to go up there. Luxia said there’s a great view of Cassiopeia tonight,” Pidge says, slyly winking at the others.

_Smooth,_ she thinks to herself.

“Maybe,” Lance says boredly. Keith remains silent, although no one misses the glint in his eye.

\---

_When they were in high school, Keith would drive out at midnight almost every weekend to where the city lights didn’t block out the sky with a telescope bumping around in the trunk of his faded red car._

_He’d walk for hours, trying to get the perfect viewing point, then set up the telescope and stare up at the sky until the sun came up, looking at the pinprick stars in the sky._

_Lance used to come along sometimes, teasing him softly with a “looking for aliens?”_

_But even he was silent when he was with Keith. It was a nice reprieve from their constant pointless bickering. Plus, the view was amazing._

_On the last day of finals, Keith had dragged Lance out, further than they’d ever been before. He parked in an empty field, tall grass swishing around._

_“Keith?” Lance had ventured. “What are we doing here?”_

_Honestly, he had thought Keith would turn out to be an ax murderer. It was the perfect location to hide a body, and maybe Keith had a knife in his trunk. He_ did _collect knives, after all-_

_Keith had turned around, face glowing. He’d opened his cupped palms to reveal a blinking firefly, perched on his palm like it was perfectly comfortable._

_Lance had looked around then and seen the millions of dancing trails flying around for the first time. “Whoa,” he’d said in awe. “This is amazing!”_

_They’d stayed out there for who knows how long, Keith teaching Lance how to stay perfectly still so that the fireflies came to him, standing near a puddle so that they’d land on him, both suspended expectantly, waiting for something. Something they couldn’t say._

_And then they drove back, and it was like nothing had ever happened as Lance fought with Keith and Keith ignored Lance and their petty little war continued._

_And that night was forgotten._

_And yes, they’re both going to Columbia, Keith majoring in astronomy, Lance majoring in performing arts, but they’ll hardly see each other._

_So it doesn’t really matter._

\---

But Lance looks at Keith and finds the other boy already looking sideways at him and he knows that he remembers.

And of course it matters.

\---

So when Keith shakes him awake at midnight, already dressed, Lance gets up and follows him without question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. chicken nuggets and confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wowww knocked out a 2k chapter

They’re silent, not because of a truce this time, but because of the mutual awkwardness crackling between the both of them.

The roof is empty except for some bored looking guy with an aviator cap pulled over his white hair and a barely-there goatee. Packs of empty cigarettes are scattered around his feet.

Lance and Keith silently agree to sit as far away from him as possible.

“Any fireflies up here?” Lance says in an effort to defuse the silence.

“No,” Keith says. “Just sit here. And shut up.”

“Oh. Um. Okay,” Lance says, forming an awkward thumbs up and sitting down. “That’s cool. Just sitting here. Being bros-”

“Lance,” Keith says, like he’s talking to a toddler. “What did I literally _just_ say?”

“Shut up,” Lance says sheepishly. “Yes. Got it.”

Lance always feels like whenever there’s silence, someone has to start talking to stir it up. It’s awkward enough when you’re just standing there, but standing there and not talking is a clear sign that you have no friends and you’re pathetic.

Although Keith never talks to anybody, and he still looks cool. Life is full of suffering.

“Hey,” the white haired guy says in a tone that matches his expression: bored and bored. “You guys coughed up for roof access all night?”

“Yeah,” Keith says just as distantly.

“Huh. Well. I’ll just go, then,” the guy says slowly in a weirded-out tone, getting up and extinguishing his cigarette. He has a janitor’s uniform on and a name tag that says Rolo. “See you pansies later.” He tips his cap and scurries in.

“What?” Lance asks his retreating back. “What is he talking about? Why are we ‘pansies?’”

Keith has stiffened in place, glaring at the door Rolo just hurried through. “I’m going in.”

“No, wait!” Lance grabs Keith’s wrist. He’s not sure what just happened, or what pansies means, but he doesn’t want Keith to go.

They’re both quiet for a moment, Keith looking down at Lance’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. He raises an eyebrow. “Lance-”

“Did I ruin everything?” Lance asks in a small voice. “Sorry. If I, you know, talk too much-”

Keith plops down next to Lance. “No. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t move closer. But he doesn’t move away either.

They sit there, talking to each other as they point out constellations, bright stars, anything, wrapping their jackets around themselves as the night goes on.

They don’t mention the fireflies again, and they’re both grateful and a little disappointed for that.

\---

Pidge doesn’t even bother to say anything when Lance opens the door, opting to just wiggle her eyebrows lewdly. “Had fun?”

Lance gives her the finger before ducking into the bathroom and running into a very much shirtless, dripping, Keith with a red towel around his waist.

They both make a funny sound at the same time, Keith looking at Lance’s hand on his chest.

“I’m...I’m just gonna go now bye,” Keith mumbles, pushing by Lance and banging into the doorframe on his way out.

“Yeah. You can just...do that. Cool,” Lance says, making a half-assed attempt to wave.

Holy fuck, I just ogled him straight to his face, he thinks, sinking to the floor and putting his head in his hands.

He is so fucked.

\---

“Keith,” Hunk declares accusingly, crossing his arms. “We need to talk.”

They’ve been driving for three hours. They’re tired and hot and cranky, and finally Pidge makes an emergency McDonald’s stop. Lance and Shiro are ordering, which in retrospect is a sort of horrible mistake, (they’ve been known to eat twenty six tacos _each_ when they’re hungry) but too late. Pidge is in the bathroom.

“What?” Keith says. Sure, he and Hunk are friends. They sat together at lunch in high school. With their group of friends who they knew better than each other.

It hits Keith that they’ve never really talked about anything more than “man, this essay blows.” Dang.

“We need to talk,” Hunk says again. “About your crush.”

“I don’t...have a cr-a crush,” Keith stutters out a beat too late. “I don’t know who-what you’re talking about.”

“Explain your doe eyes at him.”

“That’s just my...face.”

“Swimming Pool Incident.”

“Friendly horsing around.”

“Stargazing.”

“Two people. Nothing more.”

“Running into Lance with a towel wrapped around your waist and nothing else. On purpose.”

“Holy _fuck_ Pidge already told you about that,” Keith says in disbelief.

“Hmm. You didn't deny it. Besides, you two are our main source of entertainment here,” Hunk says in defense. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Just… platonic friend things.”

“Platonic friend things,” Hunk repeats incredulously. “Keith, you are so gay for the boy.”

“Hunk, forget it,” Keith interjects heatedly. “It’s not going to happen, and if it did, I’d be making Lance deal with the homophobic people and the people that get all ‘no big deal except it totally is’ about you being gay once you come out. And coming out sounds horrible and awkward because everybody acts like it’s something you should flaunt. Maybe I just want to be treated exactly the same as before.”

Hunk is silent for a moment.

Keith looks up to see him looking at Keith not with frustration, but with sympathy. Hunk pulls out a chair, sits down beside him. “What happened?”

Keith finds himself spilling his guts to the big guy before he knows what’s happening: they went up to the roof, met a janitor prick who thought they were a couple, left not to give them space but because he was weirded out by them and thought they were up there to hook up, showed he was weirded out by calling them ‘pansies,’ made Lance think Keith hated him now, and _god_ Keith just wants to scream long and loud.

“Stupid stupid _stupid_ ,” Keith finishes off, slumping down.

“Wow,” Hunk says finally. “That’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen you display.”

“You did something,” Keith says to the wall. “You’re like some brainwashing therapist. You make people open up to you.”

“And _you_ got all riled up because of Lance,” Hunk says pointedly. “Keith, Rolo was a jerk, but he’s a hotel janitor who probably eats expired salad dressing straight from the bottle for dinner. He’s just screwed up and no one’s going to remember him in twenty years.”

"Salad dressing," Keith repeats, for lack of a better reaction.

"Yes," Hunk says dead serious.

“That’s the darkest thing I’ve heard you say in a long time,” Keith says. “Getting a little edge, huh?”

Hunk squeezes his cheeks, smiling. “I am?”

“Well, now it’s gone,” Keith replies flatly. Pidge returns to their table, and Keith listens to their banter until Lance and Shiro carry five giant bags over to the sticky table. 

“Lunch is served,” Shiro says proudly.

“Shiro?” Pidge says. “Remember how you’re the most mature out of all of us here?”

“I am?”

“Well, now you’ve been demoted to six year old who’s biting off more than he can chew,” she continues, voice raising as she gestures at the five forty-chicken-nugget containers. _“THIS IS MADNESS.”_

“Well, excuse me for having an overzealous cook for a mama,” Lance says indignantly. “I’ve cleared out entire fucking buffets, Pidge. I think I can handle this.”

“Shiro, you’re insane,” Keith says skeptically. “You can’t finish all of this.”

“Watch me,” Shiro says childishly, ripping open a packet of Honey Mustard sauce.

\---

Lance lets out a loud burp, leaning back in the booth. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“How can you even think about dinner,” Pidge says in disbelief, scrunching up her face. “I’m done eating for an entire year.”

Shiro gathers up their trash and chucks it in the bin. “Weaklings,” he says, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Except for Lance.”

“Eating bros,” Lance crows, fist bumping Shiro. Keith puts his head in his hand because holy _shit,_ he is really, really cute when he does that.

“Let’s get on the road. I know Hunk is eager to see that intern-Shay,” Pidge says slyly, holding the door open for the rest of the group. “And Shiro is, of course, simply dying to see his best bro Matt. His best bro who Shiro is pathetically pining for.”

“Oh?” Keith says, slowly turning to look at Shiro. “Did I just hear ‘Shiro has a crush?’”

“I am two steps away from becoming a Himalayan monk and only emerging from my ice cave to kill my next meal,” Shiro mumbles, rubbing his temples.

“Shiro’s got a crush!” Keith crows.

“Shiro, you dog,” Lance says gleefully, elbowing Shiro.

Shiro throws his hands up. “I profoundly hate you all.”

\---

Pidge backs out of the parking lot like there’s molasses in the road. Everyone’s eyes widen as they realize what she’s about to do for the millionth time.

_“Fuck_ Pidge no don’t do it-” Hunk starts.

Pidge accelerates from a quarter mile to seventy-two in four seconds. “Road trip, ba-”

“-by,” everyone finishes with a groan.

At this rate, they’re going to have permanent brain damage by the time they reach Atlanta.

\---

“Separate rooms,” Lance and Keith say at the same time, not looking at each other.

The hotel receptionist, a blond girl named Romelle, eyes them funnily, but she clicks around on her computer and hands Keith three keys anyway. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Oh, come on,” Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro whine at the same time at the sight of the three keys.

“You’re blue balling us,” Pidge says quietly to Lance in the elevator.

Lance rolls his eyes and lightly swats Pidge in the side of her head.

Pidge looks up at him for a second thoughtfully, before pulling out her phone.

**klance shippers**

**pidgeon** : hey fuckers

 **pidgeon** : i got a plan

\---

“Lance,” Hunk says urgently, shaking said boy awake.

Lance sits up in bed, wiping away the crust around his eyes. “It’s midnight, Hunk. What the fuck could it possibly-”

“I think I left something in the elevator.”

“Someone will find it and put it in Lost and Found. I don’t care,” Lance mumbles, flumping b

ack down. “Too much talking. Good night.”

“Lance,” Hunk whines. “Come on.”

“What do you need it so bad for? What did you even lose?”

“Please? Can you just check the elevator?”

Lance looks up at Hunk for a second and immediately regrets it.

Hunk is giving him the biggest, sorriest puppy dog eyes he’s ever mustered. “Please?” he whines, bottom lip trembling.

Lance glares viciously at him. “You owe me one.A hundred, actually.” He sits up again, pulling on a blue shirt and his hoodie.

“You’re just going to go down in pajama pants?” Hunk asks doubtfully.

“What? I look okay.”

“What if you run into someone and they think you’re a crazy person,” Hunk says, pointing at the heart-printed boxers Lance is currently wearing.

Lance has a stare down with Hunk for ten seconds before Hunk pulls out the puppy eyes again and Lance instantly melts.

“You’re really pushing it, buddy,” Lance growls, stomping over to his suitcase to dig out a pair of jeans.

“Thank you so much,” Hunk says gratefully, squeezing him in a tight hug.

"Wait. What am I even searching for?" Lance says suspiciously.

"Oh, you'll know when you see it. Now go! Wouldn't want it to get... more lost."

Lance is shoved out into the hallway before he can argue more.

\---

“Keith,” Shiro hisses.

“What the hell do you want at twelve,” Keith mutters sleepily. “Stupid brother.”

“I think I left something in the elevator,” Shiro says. “Can you go check for me?”

“Why me?”

“Because I don’t like going out without my prosthetic. People stare,” Shiro replies. “Please?”

“No. There’s a Lost and Found for a reason. And what did you lose, anyway?”

Shiro ducks around the question, instead just saying, “Brother Order.”

“Damnit,” Keith says to his pillow.

“Can’t override it,” Shiro says. Keith can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Damnit,” Keith says vehemently again, sitting up and pulling on his jacket.

“Um. You don’t seriously think you’re going to walk around a hotel with your underwear on, do you?” Shiro says.

“Hate you!” Keith pronounces spiritedly, stomping back and pulling on black jeans and a shirt.

\---

Lance rubs his eyes as he waits for the elevator to come. Is someone hand-cranking it? Is that why it's so slow? Lance doesn't have time for this. It's the middle of the stupid freaking night.

The elevator finally dings and opens. Lance slumps inside, pressing the first floor button. His eyes blink lethargically as he slides down the wall into a half sitting, half melted position. He’ll just ask Romelle or something-

“Wait up,” Keith pants, holding the doors open with one arm and stepping inside. Stupidly, he looks perfectly polished and neat this late. Lance jolts up from his slump, crossing his arms in an attempt to be cool.

“What are you doing up so late at night?” Lance asks. Keith makes a noncommittal noise. "Shiro sent me to do his dirty work for him."

Lance emits a half-strangled laugh. "Huh. Hunk enlisted me to do the same thing." He stifles a yawn. "Coinkydink."

"Uh oh," Keith mumbles slowly, eyes opening wide. "They're up to something."

Lance waves him off. "They're sleepy as hell. What could they possibly do? It's an elevator. What can they do in a elevator?"

Keith nods, but he’s still glancing around nervously.

“Dude. _Chill,_ ” Lance mutters. “You’re secondhand stressing me out here.”

The elevator stops as it reaches the first floor. The doors don’t open, though, which is kind of weird-

The lights blink off and on again. The entire elevator shudders.

And then the lights blink off completely and the elevator goes dead silent.

"Apparently, they can do _that,_ " Keith hisses, glaring up at the ceiling. He shakes his head to dislodge the last bits of sleep, rushing to the doors. "This is bad. This is not good. This is really not good."

“Shit,” Lance hisses, now wide awake. “Shit. Fuck. No.”

Keith tries to pry the doors open. “I-I don’t understand. It was working fine before.”

“Ugh,” Lance groans, sinking down and putting his head in his hands. “I didn’t even bring my phone or anything.”

“Neither did I,” Keith admits, giving up on the doors and sitting next to Lance. “Shit.”

\---

“They’re going to kill us if this doesn’t work,” Hunk says, biting his nails. They’re all gathered in Shiro’s room in a sort of midnight powwow, Pidge typing furiously on her laptop. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll just bribe Romelle,” she says, shrugging.

Romelle, seated next to them in her pajamas, just says, “You don’t have to. I shipped it from the moment I saw them.” She gets up from the bed and starts making a cup of coffee in the small machine on the chest of drawers.

“Oh man, Keith is going to kill me,” Shiro muses. “Totally worth it.”

“Hacking the elevator was genius, Pidge,” Hunk says, leaning back on the bed. “This has to be a major bonding moment for them, at least.”

“Hngh,” Pidge says noncommittally. “We’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

Romelle tips her coffee mug towards Pidge in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rolo has a goatee. is that fucking weird or what
> 
> burger king> mcdonalds. comment. discourse.
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	5. kissing and kicking ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol kissy stuff happen

“At least it’s not pitch black,” Lance declares feebly. Emergency LED strips on the bottom of the elevator kicked in a couple minutes ago. The real kick in the balls is that they’re pulsing in red, then blue, then purple. Lance vows to never underestimate that tiny, green, hacking, beady eyed, scheming-

“Yeah. Could be worse. We could be, hmm. _I_ don’t know. Maybe stuck in an elevator in the middle of the night with no power and with no way to call for help. Oh, _wait._ ” Keith glares at Lance like this entire mess is his fault.

“Seriously, mullet?” Lance accuses. “This is your fault, anyway.”

“What? How the _fuck_ is it my fault?”

_“Kids, kids.”_ Pidge’s voice blares through some unknown speaker in the wall. _“Fucking play nice. And don’t try to press any other buttons on the elevator. I deactivated all of them.”_

Lance looks up with a freaked-out expression.

“...God?”

“I...oh my god, I didn't think you could be any more of an idiot,” Keith says, mouth hanging open and eyebrows raised. “You...you utter _numbnuts.”_

A long pause, before Lance laughs sheepishly. “Oh. Hi, Pidge.”

“Pidge, I’m going to murder you when I get out of here,” Keith snarls.

_“Threaten me all you want, 2009 emo,”_ Pidge declares brightly. _“You ain’t getting out of here until you give the people what they want-nay, need.”_

“What does that even mean?” Lance shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, half frustrated and half hopelessly baffled.

_“Oh, I’m sure Keithy dearest and you know what I’m talking about,”_ Pidge cackles. _“See you soon, motherfuckers.”_

“Wha-Pidge!”

The speaker crackles out. Lance growls, slamming on the wall where he thinks the speaker is.

“I’mma hurt Shiro,” Keith mumbles, staring viciously down at the floor.

“Good for you, Keithy boy,” Lance says patronizingly, prodding Keith on his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that,” Keith snaps, jerking away.

They stare at each other for a second.

“But you let me,” Lance points out. He has no idea if Pidge wants them to have a heart to heart or something. When the speaker doesn’t crackle back on, he figures that’s her goal.

He frowns. “Why do you let me?”

“Because...because…” Keith trails off, lips slightly parted. “You don’t, uh-”

“We’re...friends,” Lance says, the word feeling wrong in his mouth, like he’s reading off a script. Pre-rehearsed. “I know we are. We can probably be in the same room without killing each other.”

“We can’t even talk to each other, Lance, much less agree on anything, and I don’t think we can go a second without physically fighting,” Keith counters. His voice is still calm, though, so Lance keeps going.

“That’s because you’re too perfect to not be jealous of!” Lance bursts out without thinking.

_Oh. Shit._ “Uh,” Keith eloquently begins.

Lance slaps his hand over his mouth, letting out a long “fuuuuuuck.”

Seriously, he’s been sitting next to this goddamn perfect specimen of a human for days and he’s just flipping his shit now. Thanks, universe.

“Uh,” Keith says again.

_Well, cat’s out of the bag now_ , Lance thinks. _Just suck it up and get it over with._

“Yeah! You and how you can look cool in a garbage bag and your attitude and your eyes and your smile and everything!” Lance squawks, flapping his hands at Keith. “You’re infuriating!”

“Oh yeah? What about you? What about your gangly awkwardness and your flirting and your eyes and your laugh and...just... _everything?”_ Keith yells right back, crossing his arms and eyes shining.

“Oh my _god_ , you’re impossible-” Lance starts, cutting himself off.

Keith just confessed to him.

Keith just confessed to him.

Keith just confessed to him.

It’s ringing around in Lance’s mind, but it’s not sinking in.

_Oh shit, Keith-_

And then it is, and Keith has just enough time to mumble, “Pidge, turn off the speaker turn it off,” and the speaker crackles off, and the lights turn soft violet (Lance is so going to kill Pidge) and they’re kissing like they’ve wanted to for a very long time and it’s exactly what they both needed.

Lance pulls away first, staring at Keith. He’s flushed and his mouth is hanging open. Lance is sure he looks worse. It sounds horribly cliche, but Lance looks at Keith and he doesn’t see a rival/crush. He just sees Keith, like the world is spinning unnaturally fast around him.

\---

It’s like the world screeched to a halt.

And Keith knows that’s disgustingly cliche, but look at Lance and tell him that he isn’t the brightest thing in the universe right now.

He realizes he’s gripping Lance’s forearms. He loosens his grip, coughing into his fist and looking up at the taller boy.

“Hi,” he breathes.

\---

“Hi,” Lance whispers back, laughing as Keith bites back a grin and hides his face in Lance’s chest. They’re holding hands. When did that happen?

“Lance?” Keith mutters, voice muffled.

“Yeah?”

“Do you really like me? Because I don’t...I don’t-”

“Keith,” Lance says sternly, tipping his head to meet his eyes. “I would love you in any universe. The fact that you’re unbelievably gorgeous here is just a bonus.”

“But the others-”

“Keith,” Lance interrupts. “I really do appreciate your concern about our stupid friends and the homophobic pricks that will no doubt track us down, but we just made out after literally years of me pining and I would really very much appreciate if you could shut up and kiss me.”

Keith obeys, pulling Lance closer by his collar.

“Boyfriends,” he mumbles into his lips.

There’s the word Lance was looking for earlier.

\---

“You think they’ve kissed or killed each other?” Hunk asks.

Romelle shrugs, stifling a yawn. “From the brief exchange I witnessed between them, it could be both.”

“Leaning towards the former,” Pidge points out. “Obviously.”

“Can we _please_ check on them?” Shiro pleads.

Pidge considers it for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, why not.” She hits a key on her laptop. “Just unlocked the elevator.”

\---

Their friends are waiting for them when they come out, Hunk anxiously bouncing on his toes.

“Well?” Pidge bursts out.

“Did it work?” Shiro asks.

“Fine,” Keith concedes. “It worked. We’re boyfriends.”

Lance lets out a high pitched squeak of disbelief. “We’re boyfriends, oh my god-”

“I believe thanks are in order?” Pidge declares expectantly.

“Okay. Thank you,” Lance says primly. “That was a pretty solid plan.”

“And now there’s this,” Keith snarls, lunging at Shiro. “You asshole brother, you bitch ass mother _fucker_ -”

Lance takes off after a cackling Pidge and Hunk. “I am aware you finally got me off my ass, but I’m going to kick your stupid _ass!_ ”

Romelle shakes her head, smiling, and stumbles back to her desk, eyes closing almost as soon as her ass lands on the chair.

\---

“Atlanta, baby!” Pidge whoops, rolling down the windows and trailing her hand outside. Her newly shorn hair ruffles in the breeze.

Lance finally agreed to stop chasing Pidge and Hunk, as long as he could wreak havoc on Pidge’s hair. Pidge agreed easily; she wanted the feel of short hair anyway. And Lance had cut all of his sisters’ hair, so it had to look good by default.

_“I didn’t think it was possible,” Lance had proclaimed, staring at Pidge’s reflection (they were in the bathroom), then at the long coil of shorn hair lying on the floor, “but you look even more like a pigeon. Unbelievable.”_ Lance and Keith are currently sleeping next to each other in the back, Keith’s sleeping head leaned against Lance’s shoulder. Lance’s head is tipped on top of Keith’s. His breath whistles through his mouth evenly in and out.

Apparently, making out in an an elevator in the middle of the night makes you tired as fuck. Can’t blame them.

“We’re here?” Shiro asks, pulling out his earbuds.

“Now, Shiro,” Pidge chides. “I know you’re excited to see Matt, but try to tone it down. You’re a horny bitch.”

“I’m not-I don’t-”

“Desperate,” Hunk chimes in, clapping his hands on every syllable.

“Shut up,” Shiro grumbles.

“You’re one to talk, Shay-loving Hunk,” Pidge counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Ooohhh,” Shiro hollers.

“Immature toddlers, all of you,” Keith grumbles, burying his face in Lance’s shirt. Lance’s arm snakes around Keith’s waist, pulling him closer.

“You are going to give him the ‘hurt him and you die’ talk, yes?” Pidge asks Shiro.

“I work out six days a week, Pidge,” Shiro replies. “I think he’s well aware I can toss him like a sack of potatoes.”

\---

“Lance, I need your help,” Pidge whispers.

They’ve made their last stop before Matt’s apartment. A gas station with a much needed bathroom for Lance and much needed snacks for Hunk. Lance was intercepted on his way out of the bathroom.

“You locked me in an elevator,” Lance scoffs. “What makes you think-”

“It’s about Shiro and Matt. And Hunk and Shay,” Pidge interrupts.

“Consider my interest piqued,” Lance says slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/deathandnetflix/?hl=en)
> 
> [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathandnetflix)


	6. classics and complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tada go read

“Oh, wonderful Hunk,” Lance croons, coming up behind Hunk and squeezing him around the middle. “You remember that time you locked me and Keith in an elevator? Like, you know, yesterday?”

“Are you plotting something?” Hunk replies suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

“Just reminiscing, you know. Fun times and all that,” Lance says. “Remember that? Remember?”

“Uh-”

“Remember? Huh? Yeah? Remember?” Lance continues loudly, flailing his arms around like a starfish and bulldozing Hunk’s words over.

“Yes, Lance. I remember. It was literally just yesterday.”

“Yes,” Lance replies, finger gunning. “Nice. Well, buddy, I forgive you!” He spreads his arms out grandly.

“Um. Okay?”

“And to show you a token of my forgiveness, Pidge, Keith-who is my boyfriend, by the way, ha ha can you believe it man I could gush about him for days he’s so cute-and I, are planning a surprise for you tonight.”

“A… surprise?” Hunk asks skeptically (and not unsuspiciously.)

“We’re broke college students, Hunk. Seriously. Be grateful.”

Hunk shrugs. “Well, I do like most surprises.”

“Great! It’ll be ready by the time you get off your job. I’ll text you deets.”

“Uh, is anyone else invited to this surprise?”

“You’ll see when you get there, Hunk. It’s a surprise! Don’t ask too much about it.”

\---

“Shay!” Lance cries enthusiastically, walking in with Keith in tow.

“Hello, Lance,” Shay says, smiling bemusedly. “I see you haven’t changed much.”

“I got a boyfriend. I’d say I’ve changed a bit,” Lance says proudly.

“Hi,” Keith says, doing a Queen Elizabeth wave.

“Keith! Haven’t seen you in a long time,” Shay says warmly. She only does a slight double take when Lance puts his arm around Keith. “The boyfriend, I presume?”

“Just a bit, Shay-bae,” Lance says faux-bashfully. “Can I get a venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, and no whip?”

Shay blinks incredulously. “I want to live, Lance.”

“He’ll have an Americano,” Keith interjects. “Not whatever white-girl bullshit he just pulled.”

“Thank you,” Shay says empathetically. “Nothing for you, Keith?”

“I don’t depend on caffeine to make it through the day.”

“Fair enough. Kudos to you for not sinking down like the majority of our nihilistic generation.”

“Hm,” Keith mushes out in vague agreement.

“Actually, we’re here for one other thing,” Lance says. “Can you take your break now?”

“Um. Okay.” Shay pushes open the swinging door, the empty spot quickly filled by a surly guy with a name tag that reads ‘Rax.’ “What’s up?”

“We kind of set up a blind date for you,” Lance says, fluttering his eyelashes. “Tonight, at-”

“Hold on. What am I getting myself into? What will it cost?”

“Well, I mean, nothing. We’re covering it,” Lance says.

“We’re broke. Don’t expect too much,” Keith says in a monotone.

“Keith, you are a national treasure,” Shay says. “One more question: does this guy eat his toenail clippings like my last date did? Because-”

“No. What the fresh hell. No. N-no,” Lance babbles, reaching out to pat Shay on the shoulder. “He is a perfectly normal young man who is smitten for you. Tonight at seven. Don’t be late.”

“One more thing,” Keith says cryptically. “Bring a penny. We’ll do the rest.”

“Bye!” Lance sing songs. He leaps up and runs back to Joss Whedon (Pidge’s temporary name for the car until they can come up with something better) with Keith in tow. “I’ll text you reminders every hour!”

\---

_Earlier_

“Shay is also a broke college student. And she is saving up for a new phone because she has this crappy phone that freezes every five minutes and is a total bitch to repair. And she is saving up for this new phone by working at a coffee shop,” Pidge briefs, pulling up a fifty-two slide Powerpoint. They’re all gathered around a diner table, having sent Hunk to order. It should take him some time, seeing as Lance and Shiro fucking ordered the entire menu.

(“What the hell,” Keith asks in disbelief. Lance kisses the top of his head. “You liiike me.”)

“Fuck,” Lance breathes out, shaking his head.

“What? I like it. It’s way too cliche for anyone else, but I guess it’s perfect for those two," Keith comments, pulling Lance’s jacket tighter around himself.

“It’s not that. It’s that Pidge made a fifty two slide Powerpoint on her phone. In a car,” Lance replies. “Jesus.”

“The devil works hard, but Pidge Holt works harder,” Pidge says smugly. “Anyway, as I was saying, the coffee shop is owned by Altea Studios. It’s called Balmera Beans. Shay’s been run ragged with her internship and her homework and her job and all that pesky adult stuff, that she hasn’t had time for any dating whatsoever. Although she does seem to have taken quite a fancy to that soft marshmallow of Hunk over there lately. However, they are both utter cowards. Which means it’s our job to push these two crazy kids together.” Pidge taps to end the slide show.

“So what are you going to do?” Shiro asks.

“Have you ever heard of the penny date?”

\---

“Matt!”

“Katie!”

“Matt!”

“Katie!”

“Matt!”

“Katie!”

“Matt!”

“Katie!”

“MATT!”

“KATIE!”

“How long are you going to do this,” Lance mumbles, rubbing his hand on his face.

Pidge’s house for the summer/Matt’s apartment is the closest to the diner. Joss Whedon is running low on gas. So is Pidge, who due to her Pavloving herself, falls asleep promptly at 3 and can’t be revived until Matt, like a responsible, mature, older sibling, tiptoes up and screeches her name right in her ear.

(“If I even thought of doing that, my mami would whip out La Chancla,” Lance says disbelievingly, cringing as Pidge’s eyes open, teeth flash, and arms flail.)

In response, Matt scream/shouts “KATIE!” again. Pidge punches him on the shoulder and hops down from Joss Whedon. “Welcome to mi casa! That’s French for ‘front door.’”

“It’s-it’s not,” Lance remarks, cringing.

“No, it was a Big Hero 6… a reference to that… you know what, never mind.”

“Oh, and you will not be in the lonesome here,” Matt says, clicking his tongue. “I have an artist friend of mine staying with us while we’re here! He’s actually starting this brilliant series of paintings. So inspired.”

“Oh? What’s his name?” Keith asks curiously. Lance grunts under the weight of Keith’s and his combined suitcase weight.

“Hm? Oh, Adam. He should be coming out to greet you guys soon,” Matt says, hoisting Pidge’s duffel bag and suitcase onto the driveway. “Christ, Katie, you keeping rocks in here?”

“Actually, I’m storing the blood of angry men,” Pidge says distantly as the screen door shuts and a man comes out with dark, tousled hair, tan skin and half-framed glasses.

Pidge bangs straight into him, gaze slowly traveling up as she squints at his face. “You look familiar, Random Dude Who Lives With Matt.”

“Um. Pidge. Random Dude has a name, remember?”

“Oh, right. Random Dude Named Adam,” Pidge says, clicking her tongue. “Apologies, Random Dude Named Adam.”

“He went to Garrison Junior High too,” Shiro hears Matt say in a suddenly-distant voice.

Adam. Why does that name sound familiar? Who is this beautiful man standing in front of Shiro?

As if he can hear Shiro’s internal conflicted gay screaming, Adam looks past Pidge to Shiro, head tilting inquisitively.

Shiro’s eyes widen with realization.

“Adam?”

—-

Pidge’s gaze ping pongs between the two men rapidly before she dumps her laptop on the ground next to her suitcase, subtly hop-shuffling to Keith and Lance, who are not so subtly making out behind the car.

“This is an unanticipated wrench in Operation: Hunay and Shatt. I have not prepared for an ex-boyfriend coming in this delicate operation,” she hisses, chewing on a bitten nail. “Fuck. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“Fix it?” Keith asks incredulously, Lance’s arms around him. “Shiro and Adam had a serious thing going back then, Pidge. There were actual sparks between them. I don’t know who he’s going to end up with now, now that Adam’s back in the equation.”

“Oh, we have a love triangle,” Lance groans, running his hands through his hair, and Keith shouldn’t be distracted by that stupid little gesture, but it’s just so fucking cute. “Love triangles never end well.”

“Keith,” Pidge says seriously. “I want you to spill everything you know as a Brogane about this Shadam situation right now.”

“It’s complicated,” Keith replies, twisting his mouth, and Lance shouldn’t be distracted by that stupid little gesture, but it’s just so fucking cute. “And you forgot one thing.”

“The date tonight,” Pidge realizes, eyes widening. “Fuck. This is a drama shitstorm waiting to happen. Great. Shadamatt is officially born.”

"Shadammit," Lance curses, kicking a stone on the driveway.

“Shiro has to confess to one of the boys tonight,” Keith says. “Or there’s going to be a lot more than one broken heart by the next morning.”

“And that’s going to make for a hella awkward trip back up,” Pidge adds. “Ugh. Well, maybe Hunk can help us-oh, ugh. Operation: Hunay is still in action.”

“Okay. Well. Um. You know what? We can separate this operation. Operation: Hunay and Operation: Shadamatt.”

“But we were going to kill two birds with one stone,” Pidge protests.

“We’re hunting birds?” Lance asks, mouth slightly open.

Keith turns to an invisible camera on the street, blinking in incredulous disbelief.

“You see this boy right here? This boy is going to Columbia!” he shouts to the empty road. “This boy is majoring in performing arts! This is a smart man right here, and he just asks if we’re going to hunt some goddamn _birds!_ ” He’s only silenced when Shiro pauses his gay internal monologue of angst and ex-boyfriends to send him a stern Dad Look.

“Okay, let’s get a little more on-task here,” Pidge says, flapping her arms. “You want to get Hunay together, separate from the mess of Shadamatt?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, looking back at the three men, all staring at each other awkwardly and not without some electricity. “Something tells me it’s about to get a lot more complicated, and I think we could all use a little bit of sweet, simple Hunay. Until then… um… just keep the three separated. I guess.”

“I’ll stay behind and make sure that happens,” Lance volunteers. “You and Pidge are going to have to stalk Hunk alone.”

“Wait,” Keith says. “If we’re tailing Hunk on his penny date, then wouldn’t an asian boy walking around be more conspicuous than a white teenage girl?”

“Shit. You’re right,” Pidge murmurs. “All right. You two better do a damn good job of distracting Shadamatt or our collective ass is grass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/deathandnetflix/?hl=en)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathandnetflix)


	7. group chats and gays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **pidgeon** : motherfucker

“Seven o’ clock,” Lance says in a tone of doom. “Are we ready to pull off the most stressful stunt of our young gay lives?”

“I’m ignoring that blatant asexual erasure right there,” Pidge says, emerging from the closet in a green t shirt and jeans. “Do I look inconspicuous?”

“You’ll blend in well enough,” Keith offers from the bed.

“Not good enough,” Pidge mutters, rooting around in her suitcase. “Damn it, why do I have to be so suave and stylish?”

She whips around. “Why are you still here? Do your damn job! Begone, lazy hoes!”

“Christ,” Keith mutters, but he tugs Lance out of the room. “You take Adam. I’ll take Shiro.”

\---

**group chat: two gays and an ace walk into a bar**

**lanceeeeee** : seven o clock!!!!!!!!

**queef** : pidge you good

**pidgeon** : target(s) have been spotted

**queef** : lit

**pidgeon** : everything good @ the Gay House

**lanceeeeee** : the sexual tension is literally choking me

**lanceeeeee** : like 

**lanceeeeee** : if we keep them apart for more than five minutes they will explode 

**queef** : or have a spontaneous orgy 

**pidgeon** : lol rip gays 

****\---** **

“Shiro!” Keith says brightly, jumping in front of Shiro in the hallway. “Where are you headed?” 

“Um. I wanted to talk with Adam?” Shiro says. “I figured that as long as we’re all together, we could try to-” 

“Nah,” Keith says nonchalantly. “Adam is super busy… doing painter things. Um, you know he hates being distracted and all, right?” 

“Oh. I suppose-” 

“So let’s explore Atlanta for the afternoon! Brotherly… bonding.” If the words come out a bit strangled, Shiro doesn’t notice. 

“Keith! Is this you opening up to me?” he coos, trying to hug Keith. “I’m so proud…” 

“One step at a time, Shiro. But, uh, sure. Let’s go to Ponce City Market or something. Just the two of us,” Keith hastily adds at the end. 

“Keith!” Matt says, walking up. “Can I come with? I finished all my weekend work and I’ve been hella bored all day. Could really use a distraction.” 

“Uh. Sure?” Keith says, the tiniest note of panic in his voice. “Sure. But Shiro and I are-” 

“Oh, that’s okay! I can bring my own money,” Matt says. “I need to get out of the house. Really.” 

“Sweet! Let’s go,” Shiro says a bit too eagerly, high-fiving Matt. 

Keith forces a grin, pulling his phone out as soon as Shiro and Matt turn their backs. 

\---

******two gays and an ace walk into a bar**** **

******queef** : complication 

**pidgeon** : bitch you had literally one job 

**lanceeeeee** : no srsly pidge these gays are so chaotic 

**lanceeeeee** : adam has been debating the various merits of talking to shiro to 

**lanceeeeee** : get this 

**lanceeeeee** : _get back together_

**queef** : ah fuck 

**queef** : well get this 

**queef** : shatt are headed to “explore the city” 

**queef** : _together_

**pidgeon** : do not fuck this up 

**pidgeon** : just keep them from having any serious conversation 

**pidgeon** : gays are so incompetent 

**pidgeon** : oh shi t 

**lanceeeeee** : pidge 

**lanceeeeee** : ? 

**queef** : did she fucking die 

**lanceeeeee** : PIDGE 

****

****\---** **

The very much alive Pidge is currently hiding in a bush, silently panicking as Hunk’s Find My Phone gets closer and closer to where she is squatting.. 

“This better be worth it,” she mutters sullenly, batting away a branch. Her phone is going batshit crazy in her pocket, most likely from Keith and Lance panicking. 

Pidge scoots back as two people come into view, holding hands and talking. She crosses her fingers behind her back, squinting at the two people’s faces: Hunk and Shay, holding cups of ice cream and having a conversation. Pidge strains her ears as they pass by, but she only catches the tail end of their conversation, apparently about cooking. How sickeningly cliche. 

Pidge smiles and ducks out of the bush. Let the two crazy kids find their way. She starts walking back, pulling out her phone to text the gays. 

\--- 

**two gays and an ace walk into a bar**

**lanceeeeee** : PIIIIIIIIIDGE 

**queef** : where the fuck 

**pidgeon** : never fear your pimp is here 

**pidgeon** : just had to hide in a bush no worries 

**pidgeon** : how you doin 

**queef** : well 

**queef** : um 

_**queef has shared shiroGAYne’s location ** __****_

****__**pidgeon** : motherfucker_ _

****

****

_****_\---_ ** ** _

__Of course Shiro and Matt are headed towards Hunk and Shay’s exact location, and by extension, Pidge’s. Because this is just the best day ever._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment kudos sacrifice your soul to me bookmark subscribe etc.

**Author's Note:**

> [instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/deathandnetflix/?hl=en)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathandnetflix)


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